<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>carmine by tayzers</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601997">carmine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayzers/pseuds/tayzers'>tayzers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>follows some of the events of nov 16 but no blatant spoilers, lowercase and lack of punctuation is intended</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:08:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayzers/pseuds/tayzers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>there's a war.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>carmine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a little less vague this time. its 2am and i wanted to write something, but im tired so i didnt go over everything.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the sky is a midnight blue, fading into an inky black near the horizon. its dark. the clouds float by slowly, softly, gracing the sky with their presence as they would any other day. the world never stops turning.</p><p>-</p><p>destruction. it would be inaccurate to say you saw the world in shades of red. rather, everything presents itself to you with amazing clarity, in blinding technicolor. you know how this is going to play out before it happens. its surprising, but somehow not. everyone has become painfully predictable, but you dont bother expending the effort to crack them open.</p><p>-</p><p>you are unbothered, generally, by the events unfolding before you. as is customary, you throw yourself into your purpose without hesitation, breathing new life into your lungs with every slice of your sword against flesh. its easy to lose yourself in this, the motions familiar and motive irrelevant. at some point, you come back to yourself, covered in blood, seemingly your natural state.</p><p>-</p><p>you never were a follower.</p><p>-</p><p>turning to face the crowd, there is a sort of buzzing deep inside you. a warning, a rising wave of voices, chanting, threatening to overflow inside of you and take you over. you let it be. your mouth moves, but the mumbling prevents you from parsing your own words. you see his face twist in horror, and maybe fear, and the crowd clammers. the first sensical thought youve had in hours compares the turmoil, both inwards and outwards. but the feeling bubbling up inside you, black and ugly and dripping in something unidentifiable (something beyond you, surely, beyond everything) feels celebratory. its joyous, wonderful singing, harmonizing and settling something in your chest. you lust for blood.</p><p>-</p><p>betrayal is relative. you are clear about your ideals. when the shot goes off (a second death at your hands, by the same weapon, eerily reminiscent of that day when this feeling rooted itself inside of you, the shouting and the chaos and how good it felt to give in to your basest desires) there is a stunned silence. you let it creep into you, make a home in you, as the reality sinks in for the crowd. clearly, they were celebrating too early.</p><p>-</p><p>in the end, you are left unaccounted for. you are satiated, for now. the chorus hums pleasantly, demanding, (more, more, it always wants more, but youve spilled so much today the need feels less pressing) but pleased. you are calm.</p><p>-</p><p>he doesnt leave you to your solitude like the rest. he follows you to your base, to relax, smiles at you and you begin to feel less like the weapon you know you are. the cramped cave you carved out as a reprieve from the pressure of that ravine feels like a home for the first time in his presence. its warm.</p><p>-</p><p>the sky is absent of stars.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>